


An Assassin and A Magister Walk Into A Library

by TrickstersHeir



Series: Inglorious Bastard [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dorian, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Orlesian Balls, Orlesian Language, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Spying, Victory Sex, handjobs, Étienne Companion AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6038338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickstersHeir/pseuds/TrickstersHeir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's investigating a runaway slave in Orlais who the Lucerni think may be helpful. Étienne's celebrating a job well done. Their paths cross, and Étienne lends Dorian a hand. And then he lends Dorian more than a hand.  </p><p>(They fuck to celebrate finding a contact, who cares about the plot y'all are here for the porn man embrace it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Assassin and A Magister Walk Into A Library

**Author's Note:**

> "Salut, Dorian. Qu'est que tu cherche?" = Hello, Dorian. What are you looking for?  
> Mon Amour = My Love  
> Mon Cher = My Sweet  
> Mon Coeur = My Heart

If Dorian had to give the Orlesians credit for anything, he would have to express an admiration for the usefulness of their masks. In Tevinter, your smile was your only cover. Here you could hide behind something much more physical. Truly it saved time and effort, to simply don an item of fine make and be someone different for a night. It made subterfuge much more simple, when no one knows your face. Granted, Dorian was perfectly adept at using his own smile, but he had to admit that the commissioned piece gifted to him was a beautiful little thing.

He supposed, though, that it was not so much the masks that gave great cover, but the Orlesians themselves. So wrapped up in their own petty scheming that they paid no mind to the Vint ambassador when he slipped away to investigate or took off for a moment to catch a breath.

Indeed, Dorian was quite proud of himself for sneaking around so well. _Take that, Aurora! Of course I can do dirty work on my own! Just you see!_ Though he had to admit, no one quite shared the Dawn and Aurora finesse for this kind of investigation.

Dorian had slipped away into the library when no one was looking, scaling up the trellis when the garden had been cleared after a distraction. He liked to believe that it was a feat worthy of Étienne, who’d always been the sort of type to brag about that. Wherever that irritating little assassin had gotten off to in the recent months, Dorian did not know. But he liked to laugh and think perhaps Étienne was doing much of the same thing he himself was currently doing.

Well, Dorian wasn’t exactly wrong.

As he prodded about the grand library, Dorian couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him from the shadows. And yet, every time he turned around, he could never find anything. He’d kept a spell ready at hand just in case he wasn’t just being paranoid and tried to carry on with his digging. There were bookshelves to scan through and secrets to find as of yet.

Dorian bent over the desk, peering over the papers he’d found and trying to make sense of them. His reading of Orlesian was sloppier than he had wanted, but he hadn’t had much of a reason to keep it up in recent years. As he struggled over the words and quietly mouthed them to himself, he became more acutely aware of someone else’s presence in the room.

It was only when a hand rested itself on top of his own, when a chin came to rest at his neck, that he found himself stiffening. He should be moving, should be throwing off the sudden intruder, and yet-

“ _Salut, Dorian_. _Qu'est que tu cherche?”_ Étienne murmured in his ear.

Étienne’s breath tickled against his neck as he chuckled, softly pressing kisses down the length of Dorian’s neck. He pulled a bit at Dorian’s collar, exposing more of the skin so he could continue downwards. Dorian felt a shiver run down his side when Étienne nipped lightly at the skin.

“Nothing that should concern you, assassin.” Dorian replied, much more breathily than he intended.

“Oh, you wound me, _mon cher!_ Come, is there nothing you can share between friends?” Étienne said with a smirk as he wrapped his free arm around Dorian’s waist and pulled him closer.

“Friends?” Dorian laughed. “Why not, then. You seem to be rather _friendly_ today.”

“Only for you, _mon amour,_ only to you.”

Étienne slowly drew back, pulling his hands away from Dorian. Dorian straightened up and turned slowly to face him. He was met with a gentle kiss, with Étienne bringing his hands to Dorian’s face and cupping it gingerly as he properly greeted his lover. Dorian found himself smiling into the kiss and placing his hands on Étienne’s waist.

As they drew away, Étienne sighed pleasantly and Dorian let out a breathy little laugh. “I’ve missed you, _Amatus._ ”

“And I’ve missed you more, _mon coeur._ ” Étienne grinned. “Do you need help?”

“Do you?”

Étienne shook his head fondly. “I brought down my target already. I’m only around for the punch and possibly a hot meal at this point.”

Dorian brushed back a loose strand of Étienne’s hair, nodding. “I thought I heard servants whispering about a body. Poison?”

“Maybe.” Étienne grinned. “Brylee’s been experimenting with darts. I found they worked quite well. But enough about me. What trouble are you getting into tonight?”

Dorian hesitated for a moment, chewing at his lip idly. “I’m attempting to find a friend in the crowd. Maeveris suggested we find her.”

“Oh? And is Mae with you? I still need to be introduced.” Étienne beamed. “Do you know who exactly you’re looking for? An alias? An appearance?”

“Unfortunately she couldn’t make it tonight.” Dorian answered. “As for the woman we need, her name was Rhaena. Maeveris has never met her personally, but she is described as stunning.”

Étienne chuckled at Dorian’s dry tone. “I’ll see what I can find for you. Was she a magister as well?”

“An elf. She used to be a slave, from what Maeveris found. Created a mercenary team after escaping, started freeing slaves across the country. Mae thought she could be a help to us, considering her particular talents and her shared passions of ours.” Dorian explained quickly.

Étienne quirked an eyebrow. “An elven ex-slave, at an Orlesian ball? I suppose we’ve seen odder places to hide. Perhaps… my friend Thoros, I believe I’ve mentioned him before in passing, he spoke of an elven woman he knew only as R. It’s a shot in the dark, but I noticed him here earlier. I can see what he knows, try and prevent you from running around in circles.”

Dorian kissed Étienne once more, slowly and softly. “Thank you, Amatus. I should be in the ballroom, if you need to find me.”

Smiling, Étienne nodded and adjusted Dorian’s mask for him. “I’ll find you, love. Break a leg. But, not literally. I understand you wish to emulate me, but there are doors behind me. Use them this time, please. I’m not nursing you back to health if you get hurt.”

Étienne gave his lover one last peck on the cheek before slipping off into the shadows to continue his search.

\---

Dorian had thought he’d seen his lover dancing with a much taller man in the crowd as the night progressed, but a duchess drawing him into a conversation stopped him from getting a good enough look. Wherever Étienne had wandered off to, Dorian was sure he was working hard on helping him. Étienne would be fine on his own.

More than fine, as it turned out, for Étienne waltzed in beside Dorian out of nowhere no more than an hour later, drifting in from the shadowy alcove where he stood and taking Dorian’s arm in his.

“Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance, ami?” Étienne said smoothly, already leading Dorian to the central tiles.

The next song was just starting up, a long and sweeping number that would let them twirl across the floor in a smooth rhythm; a rather romantic dance. More importantly, the music would be enough to cover their conversation.

“You’ve improved, since we last danced.” Dorian remarked, taking the lead as Étienne slipped in to follow him.

“Brylee’s been sending me to fancier places since the Inquisition.” Étienne chuckled. “And you’re still an admirable leader.”

“What have you found?”

“Always to the point, aren’t you? Thoros is here with R, as coincidences go. And she is indeed elven, but she’s as masked as anyone. When I mentioned Maeveris, she seemed to light up a bit. I told her of your work. Thoros seemed enchanted by it. R, not quite as much. Intrigued, though, certainly. I told her to meet with me in the gardens after this dance, if she was interested in hearing more.”

Dorian felt a beam of pride coming over him. “Always so clever, Amatus. You never cease to amaze me.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, sweetling.” Étienne chuckled. “You’ll come with me, we’ll meet with R, and then I’m carrying you back to wherever you’re spending the night. I fully intend to make sure the entire ball knows that I’m here by tomorrow morning at least.”

Dorian spun Étienne under his arm, the move much less impressive without a poofy dress to spin with him. “I look forward to it then. It’s been too long.”

“As do I, mon amour _._ ” Étienne smirked.

Étienne could vaguely register the music reaching its peak around them, and he swallowed a shimmer of disappointment. As much as he disliked dancing like this, he could dance with Dorian all night long and never once feel bored. It was almost a shame to end it so soon. The song began to fade, with partners curtseying and bowing and parting ways. Dorian, ever the opportunist, used the final crescendo to dip Étienne low. It managed to draw a giggle from Étienne.

When the song finally faded out and Étienne and Dorian left the floor together. They didn’t bother to part ways as they slipped off to the gardens. No one paid them any mind anyways.

\---

Thoros was a man of impressive height and stature, the very meaning of tall, dark, and handsome. It was not hard now to see the dark-skinned man Étienne had described so fondly was every bit the charmer Étienne had deemed him. He smiled at Dorian when they approached, lifting his mask and giving a nod.

“Little birdie brings a friend our way.” Thoros remarked with a grin, cocking his head to the side. “You must be Messere Pavus that our friend speaks so fondly of.”

Étienne met his grin with a nod. “Ay, this is him. He wishes to speak with R.”

“As she wishes to speak with him.” R remarked, stepping forward from where she had been lingering near the fountain.

R had removed her mask as well, facing Dorian with openness not often found in Orlais. Dorian felt compelled to remove his own. At his side, Étienne followed suit.

“You must be Halward Pavus’ little brat.” R smirked. “All grown up and inciting rebellion.”

“He’s more than his father.” Étienne said softly, watching R with cautious eyes.

“And I am more than mine.” R chuckled. “Word of your actions have spread around, Dorian. I had wondered if Maeveris Tilani would want to find me. It appears I can rest easy now knowing she does.”

“So you’ve heard? Of the reforms the Lucerni wish to make?” Dorian asked.

“Entire company’s heard. As far as we know, the Bastards have heard as well, along with the Sons of Sea and the White Hart’s boys.” Thoros grunted with a shrug. “Lot of ex-Vints with a lot of interest. That or a lot of excitable shits down for a new fight.”

“You can tell Maeveris I’ll meet with you both when I next can. But I’ve got jobs to do in between, a reputation to maintain.” R stated. “Rest assured, I am interested.”

“Thank you, R.” Dorian smiled. “All we ask is for a chance.”

R nodded slowly, before flashing a charming smile. “Of course. I’ll take my leave now. Thoros?”

“I’ll join you later. Little bird pointed out a rather pleasant young man to me earlier who I’d like to find again.” Thoros grinned. “Rest well, R. I’ll meet with you afterwards.”

“Behave yourself now, novice.” Étienne called as they watched Thoros swagger off.

“I always do, sweetheart.” Thoros called back.

Dorian and Étienne quickly became the sole two left in the gardens, standing under the stars and letting the cool air settle around them. They stood together in silence for a moment. Dorian snuck an arm around Étienne’s waist, and Étienne in turn pressed his head against Dorian’s shoulder.

“I think that went well.” Étienne smiled, nuzzling closer. “How about you? Is it victory sex worthy yet?”

“I would say so.” Dorian said softly.

Dorian yelped suddenly, when Étienne swung him up into his arms like he was carrying a princess and pressed a quick kiss to Dorian’s cheek. “Then I believe I mentioned something about carrying you to bed and ravishing you? How about we get on that?”

“Piss off, we’ll move faster if I walk.” Dorian said, swatting lightly at Étienne’s smirk.

“Are you that eager for me, Lord Pavus?”

“I’m always eager for you, Amatus.”

\---

Getting back to Dorian’s rooms was a feat all on it’s own. It was like being at the Winter Palace again, sneaking off after their dance and being too eager to even make it to their room before Étienne just had to get his hands on Dorian. This time they managed to hold out.

The moment the door locked behind them, Étienne was on Dorian in a frenzy. Dorian found himself pressed up against the wall, with Étienne pulling at buttons and revealing as much skin as he could so he could litter every inch of it with his nips and kisses. Dorian was breathing heavily as he wound his own hands in Étienne’s hair, letting his fingers slide through and remove the tightly pressed ribbon that kept it pulled back. Étienne’s hair fell in loose waves, and he let Dorian card his fingers through it.

Étienne let out an eager little moan as Dorian pulled slightly at the hair in his hand. He let his head fall back, allowing Dorian to guide him back to the bed. The backs of his knees hit the edge as Dorian pushed him back and climbed atop him. Dorian straddled Étienne’s thighs and ground himself against the bulge in Étienne’s tights.

“And you were teasing me about eagerness.” Dorian chuckled, earning himself a firm smack on his arse by a smirking Étienne.

“Don’t be a little shit, or you’ll find yourself awfully disappointed tonight.” Étienne replied, pulling at Dorian’s cravat enough for Dorian to get the hint to lean forward and kiss him.

“What are you feeling like tonight, Amatus?” Dorian asked, ignoring Étienne’s statement in favor of rubbing himself against Étienne as he slowly worked on Étienne’s vest buttons.

“I want you, on your back, with your legs wrapped around my waist, screaming my name as I fuck you into the mattress.” Étienne grinned lazily, letting himself get a squeeze of Dorian’s arse. “How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Amatus. Absolutely amazing.” Dorian exhaled sharply, a dopey grin lighting up his face as Étienne prompted him to stand.

“Strip for me, love.” Étienne instructed, settling back against the bed. “I never was good with Tevinter fashion’s ridiculous amount of buttons and belts.”

Dorian shifted, blushing slightly as he moved to undo his buttons and shrug off his jacket. “You’d best not intend to get me naked without taking off a few layers yourself.”

Étienne laughed at that. “I’d never dream of it.” He replied honestly, discarding his own vest and undoing his cravat.

The two watched each other as they revealed more skin, pulling away at clothing and discarding the finery in messy heaps on the floor. It was only when Dorian was finally completely undressed that he tugged Étienne forward from the bed, digging his fingers under the waist of Étienne’s leggings and slipping his hand in to grope at Étienne’s arse while he pulled Étienne forward for another kiss. Dorian was pressed firmly against him, he could feel Étienne’s hardness pressed up against his own and straining against Étienne’s leggings.

“Well?” Étienne smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

Dorian smirked back at him and tugged at the leggings, pulling them down over the curve of Étienne’s ass and pushing them to the floor so Étienne could step out of them.

“Like opening a birthday present.” Dorian murmured appreciatively, letting his hands wander.

“Remind me when we get closer to your birthday. I’ll be sure to tie a ribbon ‘round my cock for you.” Étienne joked, and Dorian slowly took him in hand.

Étienne moaned again, a quick exhale that turned into a drawn out cry as Dorian stroked his cock teasingly. “Fuck, Dorian!”

Dorian hummed. “Sit back on the bed, let me know before you’re about to cum.”

Étienne obeyed, albeit with a “Edging, when I’ve been longing for you for months? I do-”

He cut himself off with a sharp exhale as Dorian licked a stripe up the underside of his cock and wrapped his lips around the head. Étienne felt a shiver run down his spine, bucking forward into the heat of Dorian’s mouth. Dorian braced his hands against Étienne’s thighs, spreading them apart and bobbing his head on Étienne’s cock. He dug his nails into Étienne’s skin, leaving light crescent marks from his nails indented in and making Étienne’s thighs tense up.

Étienne ran his hands through Dorian’s hair, messing it up as he fucked Dorian’s mouth. He ran his nails lightly over the undercut section of hair and made Dorian shudder and groan around his cock, sending vibrations that made Étienne cry out. He loved getting that right, having Dorian reacting to his every touch and shaking underneath him.

Dorian dragged his teeth gently under Étienne’s cock, his revenge for the scraping. He lightly tugged at the foreskin with his teeth before pulling off quickly and licking flatly against the head of Étienne’s cock. “Dorian, fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“Are you close yet, Amatus?” Dorian asked, kneading his knuckles against Étienne’s thighs.

“Yes.” Étienne exhaled. “Maker, yes.”

He whined in disappointment when Dorian pulled away then, and pushed him back onto the bed so he was lying on top of him. When Dorian kissed him, Étienne could taste himself on Dorian’s tongue. He was content for a moment, to let Dorian’s hands explore his chest and let Dorian’s tongue flick over his nipples. Étienne let out a breathy little sigh and craned his neck back, baring it for Dorian to mark up as he pleased.

Dorian took the opportunity, kissing and biting along Étienne’s throat and leaving marks Étienne would need a scarf to hide the next day. Étienne chuckled, and it resonated through him and against Dorian’s lips as he pressed them against his throat one last time.

“Oil?” Étienne asked softly, cupping Dorian’s face in one hand and raising his head to kiss him quickly.

“I’ll grab it.” Dorian exhaled, leaning over to retrieve a bottle from the bedside table.

He held the bottle up and presented it. Étienne grinned in return and shifted, flipping them over so he was lying on top of Dorian instead. He slid back and sat back on his haunches, nudging Dorian’s legs apart for him to settle in between. He accepted the bottle gracefully, uncorking it and gathering up a generous amount of lubricant on his fingers.

Étienne spread Dorian’s legs a little wider apart, kissing down his thighs as he circled his finger around Dorian’s entrance. He took Dorian’s cock in his mouth as he breached the first finger in, just holding it there and allowing Dorian to take a moment to adjust. Dorian let out a high moan, a whine of “Étienne!” as Étienne slowly began to rub his finger around, prodding gently until he found the bundle of nerves he’d been looking for. He brushed over Dorian’s prostate teasingly. Dorian clenched around his finger, letting out a desperate whine and bucking into Étienne’s mouth.

“Easy, love.” Étienne whispered after he pulled away from Dorian’s cock. “Breathe. Loosen up for me.”

Slowly but surely Dorian’s racing heart calmed. He wriggled a bit, letting Étienne start to stretch him open on his fingers in preparation. Dorian threw one arm over his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow. “ _Maker, Amatus!_ ” He breathed out, trying to fuck himself on Étienne’s finger.

Étienne pressed a kiss on the tip of his cock before sliding another finger into Dorian. He scissored them back and forth, eyes locked firmly on Dorian’s heaving chest and shaky arm. “Look at you, love, you’re doing wonderful.”

Dorian let out a breathless laugh, rubbing his arm over his eyes. “Hurry up, Amatus, before I come all over that pretty face of yours.”

Étienne obliged him with nip to his thigh and a third finger slowly pushed in. “Maker, Dorian, you’re always so fucking tight for me. Gotta get you all loosened up, make you a wreck, get you begging for my cock.” He whispered lowly.

“Is tha- _hnggg!_ Is that what you want, me begging?” Dorian grunted, grinding down against Étienne’s fingers.

“I want you to tell me exactly what you want.” Étienne grinned, and he brushed all three fingers against Dorian’s prostate.

Dorian let out a sharp cry and bucked his hips, whining as he sought out Étienne’s fingers. “Maker, Amatus, I want you to fuck me into the mattress so hard that I’ll have trouble riding tomorrow. I want you to pin me down and make me scream your name so everyone knows who I’m with. I want you to mark me up as much as you like- _just fuck me already! Étienne!”_

Étienne pulled his fingers away and Dorian whined at the sudden loss. But then Étienne was moving forward, coating his cock in the oil, positioning the tip at Dorian’s hole and moving his hand up to pull Dorian’s arm away from his eyes and pin his hands to the bed.

“Look at me, mon cher.” Étienne whispered, and he kissed Dorian firmly on the lips once before pulling away and pushing in slowly.

Dorian let out a long, drawn-out cry, bucking his hips forward to meet Étienne and trying to find friction against his aching cock. He let out wild pants as Étienne fucked into him, squirming and freeing his hands from Étienne’s grasp so he could dig his nails into Étienne’s shoulders and rake them down his back until Étienne shuddered and groaned and left a line of hickies across Dorian’s collarbone in retaliation.

Gripping at Étienne’s ass and kneading it in his hands, Dorian dug his nails in and met every slam of Étienne’s hips with his own. A quick crescendo of cries fell from Dorian’s lips, a repeating litany of _“Étienne! Étienne! Maker, ÉTIENNE!”_

Étienne let out a string of curses under his breath. “Fuck, Dorian, I’m not gonna last much longer!”

Between curses and praise in Tevene, Dorian managed to string enough coherent thought together to clench around Étienne and whisper “ _Cum for me.”_

It took one, two, three more thrusts, before Étienne felt his vision go white and sparks fly up and down his spine. He slowed his pace, fucking Dorian more shallowly until he was spent. He collapsed on top of Dorian, fumbling for a moment before pushing back enough so he wouldn’t crush Dorian. He was winded by it, knocked down and slowed by his climax. Pleasure danced along his skin, making him moan sluggishly. He had to take a moment to catch his breath.

“Fuck.” Étienne panted out. “Holy fuck.”

Dorian squirmed and let out a whine, bucking forward a little to rub his cock up against Étienne’s abs. Étienne chuckled and gave an apologetic peck to Dorian’s lips before slipping his hand between them and slowly jerking Dorian off.

The pause hadn’t done much to flag down Dorian’s cock. It did not take long for him to respond to Étienne’s steady, even strokes. He found a rhythm to match with and gradually let himself thrust up into Étienne’s hand, still slick with oil. It was when Étienne began to trail more lazy kisses down his throat that Dorian picked up his pace. He was fucking into Étienne’s hand hard and fast and ready to burst as Étienne littered his shoulders with small bites.

As pressure built in the pit of Dorian’s stomach, he kicked into a desperate pace. Small cries escaped his lips as Étienne moved his mouth to Dorian’s jaw. Étienne mouthed at his jaw line, pressing kisses along it and whispering praise against his skin. Dorian moaned loudly and without a care as he moved one hand down to join Étienne’s around his cock.

It took only three more strokes before Dorian was letting his head fall to the side and burying his face in the pillow. Dorian shuddered and felt himself go slack, his frantic grinding coming to a slow halt as he came all over their combined hands and himself.

Étienne pulled out of Dorian slowly, falling over onto the other side of Dorian and collapsing on his back with a puff of laughter. “Maker, I’ve missed you.” He sighed contentedly.

Dorian hummed in agreement and rolled over to cuddle up against Étienne’s side, never minding that they were both slick with sweat and spend.

It took a moment for Étienne to regain himself enough to slip away and return with a wash basin of warm water, soap, and a cloth. Cleaning himself off was easy enough, but he had to tug Dorian out of bed and have him brace himself against the wall with legs spread so he could get him cleaned up.

“Water’s tickly.” Dorian muttered, pressing his nose against the wallpaper with a groan as Étienne dripped a bit of water down his back.

“Better it be tickly now, than having to peel off dried cum tomorrow.” Étienne muttered, smacking Dorian’s ass slightly with the wet towel.

It only took a moment for the two to dry off, before they were stumbling back into bed with each other and passing out as soon as they hit the pillow. Dorian curled around Étienne, wrapping his arms around Étienne’s waist and nosing against his neck. Before he managed to fall asleep, he whispered a soft _I love you_ against Étienne ear. Just before he slipped under, Étienne whispered back, _je taime._


End file.
